


No Comment

by yorkisms



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Ableist Language, Alcohol, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, characters tagged in order of appearance not importance, church and carolina are awful relatives, hurt comfort with a happy ending, illegal/unethical experimentation, jewish church family, mentions of brain/nerve damage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-01 21:11:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12713052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yorkisms/pseuds/yorkisms
Summary: When Leonard Church runs into a stranger at a legal meeting, he realizes that they're more connected than they know. As both navigate the fallout of a terrible experiment six months prior and avoid the local press, they find themselves growing closer despite the trouble in their lives.But when it comes to the Church family drama, nothing can ever beeasy.





	1. Prologue: The Walls Around Me

**Author's Note:**

> A modern AU I had the concept for a few days ago and pitched to @peteor who said "dude, I'd read it" motivating me on an epic journey to, as the doc this story is in is named, "just fucking write." 
> 
> (Special thanks to Jordan, who has literally no online presence and doesn't even like rvb for helping me write a summary, peteor for the beta, and PeacefulPhoenix for helping me develop this concept.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _A lifetime ago, with frozen eyes they closed the door_   
>  _Suddenly I realized what locks are for_   
>  _No trusting them anymore, lights are out_   
>  _Empty the stare, innocent and unaware, dragged out from my home, my lair._   
>  _Earmarked me, hurt me, burned me._
> 
> \--Sonata Arctica, _The Cage_

_ i. _

“This is mandatory?” 

“For everyone in your section.” 

The woman in her lab coat gestures to the chair, which the man following her looks at with apprehension. He runs one hand through his messy black hair. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes. It’s for health and safety. Please have a seat, it won’t take long.” 

He eyes the chair nervously. She gives him a charming smile. 

“It will be fine.”

“Thank you, Phyllis,” the man says, before approaching the chair. Phyllis waits for him to get situated, and pulls attachments from it to the man’s head and arms.  

“This should take no time at all,” she reassures, and the man remains tense. “I’ll be outside.” 

Phyllis exits the room, shutting the door behind herself and moving to a computer terminal the next room over, noting a lurking presence behind her as she initiates the machine. 

“He agreed?” 

“Yes sir,” Phyllis says, operating the machine easily. “If I might ask, why this one? He doesn’t- no offense, sir- doesn’t seem exceptional in any way.” 

“Control of variables, Phyllis,” the man watching replies, looking through a two way mirror at the man in the chair trying to maintain his calm. “This is one variable I know I can control how I choose.” 

Phyllis nods. “I understand, Director.” 

The Director looks away from the room and back to Phyllis. 

“I’ll need his results. Trash the rest of them. If we’re lucky, we can work through them quickly and begin the trials within a month, at best.” 

The Director exits, and Phyllis puts her full attention to the machine, pulling a microphone to her mouth and turning it on. 

“Now, Mr. Church, I’m going to need you to let me know if you feel any pain. I’ll be starting the exam now.” 

_ ii. _

The waiting room is tense. He’s signed all the waivers now, the only thing he can think to do is wait, fidgeting, tapping his foot on the floor as he scrolls through his phone. 

“Mr Washington?”

He looks up. 

“This way, please.” 

Wash follows the sharply dressed assistant through the halls, looking at the other rooms, which are labeled with symbols he only vaguely recognizes, the ones he’s seen his peers from university disappear into for this same experiment. 

There’s a door marked with a green triangle- Δ- one with a circle that has a dash inside of it, Θ, an upside-down L (Γ). He passes one that looks like a horseshoe, Ω, one that looks like a sideways M, Σ, and the only door with two markings, that spells out a word: ΗƖ. Finally they stop in front of a door marked with one letter: Ε. The assistant stands to the side and Wash opens the door, just to see some complex computer systems he can’t comprehend inside. 

Something strikes him as ominous. He hasn’t seen anyone come out in the hours he’s been here. Were they told to wait inside until everyone else was done? 

Surely it’s nothing. They wouldn’t be allowed to do this to people if it was dangerous, and surely his friends were ok, and York would laugh at him afterwards when he bought North and Wash lunch with the fifty dollars experiment participation promised. 

Surely, Wash thinks, it will be okay.

“What’s this experiment for, again?” 

The assistant gives him a secretive smile, and Wash swallows nervously. 

“That will be covered at the debriefing afterwards.” 

Wash steps inside, and lets her attach nodes to his head, arms, and chest. 

“And this is safe?” 

“You have nothing to worry about.” 

She lowers a helmet over Wash’s eyes. 

The system hums to life, and Wash screams. 


	2. Eyes Around Me, Feed my Fear again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Shades of darkness filled her life.  
> In every single corner you can not turn right.  
> Night could pass for a day, in her lack of faith, she let it all fade away.  
> Once more, a cry in the lanterns light...
> 
> \--Sonata Arctica, _Victoria's Secret_

_ 6 months after _

Lavernius Tucker considers himself a pro with kids. Which is saying something, because between the neighbor who spends all his time in Tucker’s apartment, Tucker’s childhood best friend who’s been crashing with him for months, and Tucker’s  _ actual _ child, he might as well have three.

In fact, two of those kids are in his kitchen at this moment. Leonard Church (childhood best friend) and Lavernius Tucker Junior (actual child) are both in the kitchen of their shared apartment, Church laying on the island of their kitchen sleepily drinking coffee, Junior eating froot loops rapidly. Tucker finishes the last of his own coffee. 

“Junior, hurry up, you can’t be late to school again.” 

“Mm-hm!” 

“Church,” Tucker asks, voice softening slightly. “You wanna go get lunch with me before you have to meet up with those suits of yours?” 

Church sighs, nodding quietly. He’s never been a morning person, and Tucker knows the last few months have been...difficult for Church. 

“Meet you at Claret Cafe at eleven? I’m gonna drop off the kid then run some errands.” 

“Fun day off you have planned,” Church mutters sardonically. Tucker gives him a stern glare. 

“Just get your ass to Claret on time.” 

“You know I will.” Church looks sideways at Junior. “Do good at school today, otherwise your dad’s gonna flip his lid.” 

Junior grins and nods around a mouthful of froot loops. 

“Sweet,” Church says. “I’m gonna go take a shower. See you later, Tucker.” 

Tucker rolls his eyes as he puts his coffee mug in the sink, because he knows for sure that Church is going to lay about until 10 AM, and then barely pull himself together in time to meet Tucker at Claret Cafe. 

But Tucker can’t really be surprised, given what Church has been through.

Junior is dropped off without incident, and that leaves Tucker free to get things done until his lunch date with Church.

“Hey, Tucker,” the host at the front says, leaning over the counter. 

“Hey, Grif.” 

“Church is sitting round the side.” 

“Outside?” Tucker asks, surprised. Grif nods, then shrugs. 

“He seemed a little less grumpy today. Maybe he just felt like it.” 

“He is meeting the lawyers today,” Tucker muses, “Maybe that’s helped.” Tucker pauses, then shoots Grif a look. “And no gossiping. Simmons is fine, but don’t let anyone give him a hard time or else.” 

“As if,” Grif says with a snort, before jerking his thumb towards the exterior seating area.

To his surprise, Tucker finds Church sitting at one of the outdoor tables at the Claret Cafe, wearing a ratty blue hoodie with the hood up, jeans, and plain sunglasses. Church is drinking what looks like a blue raspberry flavored smoothie. 

“Did you ask for a blue one to give Sarge conniptions?” Tucker asks, sitting down. Church nods. 

“Of course.”

“Do you wanna take the glasses off, then?” Tucker says, reaching one hand out inquisitively. Church leans back enough that Tucker gets the hint. 

“Not outside.” 

“Why sit outside?” Tucker asks curiously. Church shrugs. 

“I used to like sitting outside at cafes, you know. Fresh air. Get to listen to people’s idiotic conversations and judge them.” 

Tucker rolls his eyes. “Yeah, that sounds like the Church I know.”

Church smirks. 

Tucker watches a waiter in a maroon shirt walk up to the table. 

“Hey Sims,” Tucker says, gesturing with one hand. 

“Hey,” Church says, and Tucker notes that Church hasn’t gotten loud yet. 

“Hey, Tucker. Church, can’t say it’s all bad to see you back.” 

Church grins in a cocky manner, and Tucker feels relieved. 

“What would you like?”

Tucker pauses. Church shrugs. “Fish and chips.” 

It doesn’t take a genius to read Church right now. Tucker resolves to talk to him once Simmons leaves. 

Tucker looks up. “BLT, then. Can I get some water, too?” 

“Fries with the BLT?"

“Hell yeah.” 

“Cool,” Simmons says, before looking at both of them. “Be back with that in a bit.” 

Tucker leans in as soon as Simmons moves off. 

“Does it scare you that much?” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Church says, in a tone that indicates he very much does know, and is avoiding the question. Tucker sighs. 

“Come on, man, I already know about all of it.” 

Church lets out an irritable sigh before lowering his sunglasses slightly so Tucker can get a proper look at Church’s eyes- burning bright, intense blue- behind the shades.

“Yeah, so we don’t need to talk about it again.” 

Tucker sighs, playing with a spoon left on the table. “Church, your uncle-” 

“Former. Legal. Guardian.” Church bites out the words, and Tucker recalculates. 

“Whatever you wanna call it. He did some really shitty things, including exposing your private life to scientific study- if you can call it that- and hurting a lot of people. Sure, there’s a lawsuit, but that’s not gonna fix the hurt or everyone. Besides, you can’t lie to me, I know you’re bent up. Can you  _ please _ see a fucking therapist, for the love of god?” 

“You know what happened, why the fuck would I trust a therapist?” Church points out, pushing his glasses back up. “Carolina’s taking care of it. Once she finishes the suit, we get the inheritance, pay off her friends, and I don’t have to think about it again.” 

Tucker sighs. “Church, you’re being a big fucking idio-” 

Simmons returns, setting their food down. Tucker hands him cash. 

“He may want to bolt,” Tucker communicates softly. “Tell Sarge I owe him if necessary.”

Simmons nods understandingly. Church picks up the fish and takes a bite. Tucker gives Simmons a thumbs up, and Simmons leaves accordingly. 

“You’re being a fucking idiot.” Tucker sighs. “Seriously, I’ve seen you at your worst, and this is real fuckin’ low for you, man. You had your depressive episode in high school, and then when Tex left you, and then now, and I’ll tell you as your friend which one’s scariest.” 

“Tucker.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Fuck off.” 

It’s got no bite, and Tucker sighs. 

“Fine.” 

Church is almost through his fish and Tucker through half of his BLT when Church ducks his head at the sight of a crowd about to pass their table.

“It’s fine,” Tucker murmurs, comfort-oriented. “I’m sure no one recognizes-” 

“Sir, you’re involved in the lawsuit against Mother of Invention Laboratories, right?” 

Tucker watches Church freeze up in a heartbeat, blood draining from Church’s face. 

“We just came from city hall, where the lawyers are meeting with clients about that suit. You were on local news footage, right? Can we get an inter-” 

“No comment,” Church mumbles hurriedly, and Tucker stands up. 

“Naw, c’mon. I’m the biggest source of information on the MOI Lawsuit you’ve never heard of.” 

“Uh...who are you?” 

Tucker shoots them his best charming grin and pats Church on the shoulder so he knows to sneak out the back of the Claret. Sarge will probably let him through without trouble- just this once.

“I’m the Director’s illegitimate child,” Tucker lies, already spinning a massive tale that’s going to be too big to believe. “See, I may be a bastard, but he’s the bigger bastard, y’see. You know he never paid my mom child support?”


	3. I must be Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Lost in the sunlight, leave, you will not see the moon._   
>  _Walk for the first time, no one has waited for you..._

Half an hour and a short, anxiety-ridden drive finds Church at city hall, waiting outside one of the rooms, scrolling on his phone.

**[To: Fucker: What did you tell them]**

**[From: Fucker: a whole lotta things tht sure arent tru ;)]**

**[To: Fucker: If any of this was penile humor im gonna kill you]**

**[From: Fucker: nah not this time theyre not worthy of my best dick jokes]**

Church snorts, standing up and beginning to type.

**[To: Fucker: That implies any of your dick jokes are g-]**

Church’s typing is cut off by a stranger bumping into him, causing him to look up.

Ah.

Said stranger happens to be leaving the room Church is waiting to enter, a few inches taller than Church, and also happens to have freckles for days, bleach-blond hair, and muscles to die for.

Church’s mouth dries up.

“Apologies,” the stranger says, embarrassed. “I must not have seen you there.”

Church shakes his head. “No...no problem.”

“Are you waiting to speak to the lawyers next?”

Church nods mutely. Mr. Tall, Blond, and Handsome gives him a sympathetic look.

“Well, good luck. I know they’ve been nothing but helpful and supportive for me.”

The blond offers Church his hand, and Church processes the gesture for a short time before shaking.

“David Washington. Wash, actually.”

“Uh-- Leonard Church. Just Church.”

Wash smiles politely. “I imagine we’re going to be seeing more of each other, so, nice to meet you. Thank you for joining the case.”

Church nods. “I had better…”

“Oh, of course.” Wash heads off down the hall, giving Church a small wave, which Church returns, looking awestruck.

Then, Church remembers what he’s here for and hurries into the meeting room.

-

“You’re positive at no point did anyone state that the results of your brain scans were going to be used elsewhere? Or shared?”

Church shakes his head, tracing a pattern on the tabletop.

“No. No. They said it was for health and safety. I didn’t question it. They never said it was going to be shared. I didn’t agree to a study, I agreed to a medical exam.”

“How close are you with your uncle?”

“Not very. He adopted me after my parents passed, but by then I was in high school. We never got along, I always called him out for his treatment of Carolina.”

“Yes, she’s already talked to us about the...well, frankly, child abuse.”

“Yeah,” Church says bitterly. “So he didn’t like me. I don’t know why he used my brain. I really don’t. But I never agreed to having that stuff shared. I wouldn’t have given it if I knew it was going to him.”

“So you didn’t know about the purpose of the experiments using the Alpha System.”

“No!” Church says emphatically. “I especially wouldn’t have given my mind away if I knew it would hurt people.”

Church sighs unsteadily. “Caroline wouldn’t tell me. What happened.”

“To whom?”

“What were the major injuries of the project. What did my mind do.”

One of the lawyers looks at his list.

“Nikolas Dakota, medically induced coma- his twin sister is representing him in the case.”

Church exhales heavily.

“I know about York’s eye and Carolina’s...trauma. Skip that.”

“Matt Burns. Permanent vocal chord injury. Allison McCoy, brain damage resulting in emotional control issues. Reginald Wyoming, stress. David Washington-”

Church’s ears prick up slightly.

“--severe psychological trauma.”

Church practically visibly wilts, taking a deep, shaky breath. “I didn’t want any of this. Please just put him away.”

“We’ll do our best, Mr. Church. Thank you for your time.”

Church exits, and slides down the wall until he’s sitting.

**[To: Fucker: I know i drove but can you pick me up]**

**[To: Fucker: I dont wanna drive home]**

**[From: Fucker: id call you a big baby but i assume that was a tiring talk]**

**[From: Fucker: im omw]**

**[To: Fucker: thnks]**

\--

After leaving the courthouse, Wash drives directly to the hospital.

“Room 1889?"

“Down the hall, to the right.”

Wash quietly thanks the secretary and moves off down the hall. He’s never liked hospitals, but for this one, he almost has to.

He knocks twice quietly on the door, and hears an answering noise, which is his permission to enter.

“Hey.”

The only response is a grunt from the bedside, where Wash looks at the girl sitting there, her hair cut messy, the pink dye fading fast.

“I got you doughnuts. Since I know you’ve been here most of the week.”

Wash pauses, and then sighs. “They said he can still-”

“I know what they _said._ ”

“South…”

“This is all you idiots’ fault,” she mutters. “I told him not to go.”

“It was chance. It could have happened to anyone.”

South shoots Wash a cold glare. “Yeah. You got fucked in the head, York lost his damn eye, Maine lost his voice, and my brother’s in a fucking coma. It didn’t happen to anyone.”

Wash makes up his mind to not deal with this right now.

“Doughnuts are on the counter.”

He turns to leave, and hears South hiss behind him.

“It should have been you.”

Wash’s shoulders stiffen slightly, but he forces himself to leave.


	4. Or I will die before the Harvest Moon, my friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _But if I start to levitate_   
>  _Pull me down with all your weight_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta say, so much of York's dialogue here is a mood.

He’s expecting the atmosphere at his apartment to be cold and lonely, but when he approaches the front door, he sees York waiting, holding a bottle of whiskey. 

It takes all of Wash’s willpower not to stare too hard at his left eye- scarred over and unseeing. 

“I brought the good stuff.” 

“What’s the occasion?” 

“Almost everyone we know suffering life changing, traumatic injury,” York snarks, “Christ’s sake, get drunk with me, I only have one eye.”

Wash sighs. 

“Let me unlock the door.” 

York pumps his fist as Wash unlocks the door. 

“Your meetings go ok?” 

“Fine,” Wash says. “Met one of the others.” 

“I thought you knew everyone involved in the case.” 

Wash shakes his head. 

“What’s their name?” York asks, setting the whiskey down on Wash’s counter and opening the bottle, grabbing some glasses from Wash’s cabinets. 

“Church.” 

“Oh, I know him."

Wash can tell York is holding back information. York looks at him sideways. “You want his phone number?” 

Wash flushes. “Why would I want-” 

“Because everyone who’s been through this stupid, shitty accident needs a friend,” York declares, and Wash decides not to push the point of...whatever York is withholding. 

“And he’s totally your type.” 

Wash flushes. “Just give me his number.” 

“Then shots?”

“Yes. I’m going to ask him for coffee, and then I will lock my phone and drink with you.” 

York grins. “Awesome. So it’s two-zero-five…”

\--

Church spends the night on Tucker’s couch, drinking vodka out of the bottle, but only after Tucker puts Junior to bed. 

“You never told me what the research was,” Tucker comments. “What they used from your records to...fuck up everyone.” 

“And I don’t want to,” Church slurs, “Not yet.” 

“Am I gonna find out on court TV?” 

“Yeah y’are.” 

“Fine,” Tucker grouses, sitting down. Church goes quiet. 

“Met a guy.” 

“Yeah?” 

“At the meeting.” 

“He a lawyer or something?” 

Church shakes his head. 

“I--on’t want him to know who I am. Tha’ll ruin everything.” 

“Alright,” Tucker says soothingly. “Want me to change the channel?” 

“Fuck yeah,” Church says, entire body slumping over onto Tucker. “Wanna watch the awful adult cartoons. Not the shitty kiddy ones.” 

“You think both of them suck, Church.”

“Yeah, but at least the adult ones say fuck.” 

Tucker sighs. 

“Fine.” 

-

Church wakes up on Tucker’s couch the next morning with a hangover and an unread text. 

**[From: Unknown number: Hey, it’s Wash. Sorry, I got this number from my friend, York, says he knows you. I was, well, wondering if you wanted to go get coffee sometime or something?]**

Church turns a shade of red previously unknown. 

**[To: Unknown number: hey sorry just woke up- yeah dont mind. Do u know claret? on 28th?]**

**[From: Unknown number: Not specifically, but I looked it up. 1 PM?]**

**[To: Unknown number: yea sure]**

Church looks over at the kitchen, where Tucker is making coffee. 

“A guy just asked me out on a date, Tucker.” 

“Cool.” 

“ _ That’s _ all you have to say?” Church exclaims, voice pitching into a near screech, and Church can’t help but notice Tucker smirking. “What are you laughing at!” 

Tucker shrugs, turning to look at Church, coffee pot in hand. “Nothing, man, just haven’t heard you screech like that in next to forever.” 

_ Not since you found out about the accidents _ is the implied statement, and neither of them approach that can of issues.

Church sighs. 

“I can’t wear sunglasses on a date.” 

“You sure can’t.” 

“You shut the hell up!” 

“Good luck!” 

\--

Church finds himself in the back of the Claret Cafe half an hour before anything is scheduled, drinking a coffee in his sunglasses. The kitchen doors open next to him. 

“Church!”

Church sighs and sets down his coffee. “Hey, Sarge.” 

“What are you doin’ lurking here like you’re just gonna steal our cooking secrets!” 

“I hate cooking,” Church points out, “and I’m waiting for someone.” 

“How late are they?” 

“I’m early.” 

Sarge sighs. “Now son, Tucker’s talked to me about your problems with the press and with crowds-” 

“It’s not really a problem,” Church mutters petulantly, but Sarge carries on.

“And if it’s an emergency maybe you can sneak out through the back if you want! But this person you’re meeting-” 

“Is involved with the case,” Church points out, albeit reluctantly. 

Sarge sighs with irritation. “They had better buy something.” He turns around and walks back into the kitchen. Church takes a drink of his coffee with a smirk. 

When the door opens, Church sits up, lowering his sunglasses. It’s Wash, dressed more casually, in an older shirt and a grey jacket. He spots Church, sitting down across from him. 

“Why the back?” 

Church pauses while removing his sunglasses. “Don’t like feeling like I’m watched.” 

“That’s fair,” Wash says. “I don’t like it either.” 

In fact, Church notices that Wash looks subtly as tense as he does. 

Church relaxes slightly. At least Washington is just as on edge as he is.

“You come here a lot?” 

“Yeah,” Church says. “Friendly with the staff. Makes it easier.” 

Wash looks at him with understanding. “That’s nice.” 

“I’m sure they’ll grow on you,” Church says with a snort. “For lack of a better term. They know about the case, they let me hide in the walk in if I need.” 

Wash nods sympathetically. “You must have seen some messed up things.” 

Church ducks his head slightly. “You could...say that.” He clears his throat. “You should order something. Before Sarge gets mad at me for sitting here for too long without buying.” 

“Sure,” Wash says. 

Church takes a breath. 

Wash seems...alright. He can do this. 

He can do this. 

He can- 

Wash laughs at something Church said, and it’s neither high nor clear, it’s a deep down flurry of snorts, and Church goes red and remembers he  _ can’t  _ do this, because he was complicit in experiments that ruined Wash’s life. 

Too bad he already knows Wash well enough to feel... _ guilty _ about it.

He’s fucked.


	5. I do not have another year in me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Counter balance this commotion_   
>  _We're not droplets in the ocean_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fact that I made this chapter so nice and light should really be a warning.

_Three weeks later_

They avoid press together.

Apparently Wash has had a similar problem, dealing with people who either recognize him or find out who he is trying to pry, and Church appreciates the solidarity.

They sit in the back of every restaurant together, and Wash doesn’t ever ask Church to take off the sunglasses, and yet, Church finds himself _wanting_ to. It gets him a better view of Wash’s face. Expressions. Eyes.

Oh man, he’s fucked.

“Where’s the place you picked tonight?” Wash asks. “I’ve never heard of it.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Church replies with a shrug. “It’s higher end _and_ it’s...bit of a family tradition.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Church pauses, before speaking. “My parents liked it here before they, uh, passed. They were friendly with the old owner, sorta. Best kosher food in town.”

“I see why you asked me to dress up a bit,” Wash mutters.

“It’ll be fine. I go here enough.”

“You sure?”

“It’s not suit and tie,” Church snorts. “It’s just nice, you know, they have the little candles on the table and shit.”

“You’re incredible.”

“I’m gonna take that as a highly romantic compliment.”

“You can believe that if you want to.”

Church smirks, parking his car.

“We’re here.”

“We are?”

“Yeah, hurry up, _David,_ I’ve been craving this place’s chicken soup since you said I could just pick a restaurant for a date.”

“Is this a date?”

“Well, kind of, it’s like, the third date, right?”

Wash shrugs. “Whatever.”

“Come _on._ ”

Church looks uncomfortable muttering things to the waitress, but she eventually beams and escorts Church and Wash to the back near the kitchen.

“What were you talking about?”

Church pauses, almost hiding behind the menu.

“Getting out through the kitchen, if we have to. I know some of the press likes this place for business dinners.”

“And you wanted to come here?”

“Yeah, Washington, I brought you here. I brought you here because it’s where my parents would take me for nice dinners and shit.”

“Oh.”

Church gently and subtly (two words that don’t often apply to Church) hits Wash with the menu. “Idiot.”

Church orders his chicken soup, Wash asks to try the pierogies, and the service staff generally leave them alone.

“Did you pay extra to sit back here?"

Church shakes his head. “Name-dropped my late parents.”

“Really?”

“You’d be surprised,” Church says. “After all, the press gives a shit about _us_ , that really says something about how fame and interpersonal relationships work around here.”

“True.”

“You’re not from Blood Gulch, are you?”

“No,” Wash says. “I used to go to college here, though.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Before the experiment. Most of the people involved did, you know?”

“Didn’t know that,” Church says softly.

Wash shrugs, stirring his drink slowly. “Most of us were broke college students who could have used fifty bucks. You know, that sort of thing is common at college campuses. Free food or some cash if you participate in a short experiment.”

“I’m sorry,” Church says, quiet. Wash wonders why it sounds so genuine for someone who wasn’t guilty of anything.

The waitress returns at that moment, distracting Church with his soup.

“Aw, hell yeah. Thanks.”

Wash watches Church blow gently on the soup before beginning to eat it, skimming his spoon across the surface of the liquid, facing away from him.

Wash blinks as Church brings the soup spoon up to his mouth and tastes.

“Fuck, that’s good.”

“Why did you-?”

“Habit,” Church says. “It kind of happens when your family’s over-obsessed with formality.”

“Oh.”

Church says nothing more on the subject, and Wash turns his attention to his food.

Church’s eyes widen as Wash makes a (frankly, obscene) noise into his food. “That’s really good, Church.”

“Yeah, asshole, why do you think I like it here?”

Wash can’t help but snort at that.

“Ok, I’m a convert. This place is amazing.”

“See what I mean?”

Church pauses and ducks his head.

“Dinner and stuff was forty bucks, right?”

“I think so.”

“With the drinks, yeah.”

“Why?”

“Six o’clock, that irritating reporter from the evening news who keeps calling me for interviews.”

“Maria Velez?” Wash asks. Church nods. “You getting those calls too?”

“Unfortunately,” Church says, sounding strained, looking vulnerable.

“Can I block you from view with my body?”

“Wash, you’re a big dude, but you’re not that big.”

“Are we gonna leave cash and sneak out the kitchen?”

“Oh, probably.”

“They’re ok with that?”

“Probably.”

Wash watches Church duck out of sight.

“You eat enough?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Me too,” Church says. “What if we went to a store and bought more drinks together.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Wash says, looking over his shoulder to where Maria Velez is sitting within full view of them and looking in their general direction, in fact.

Church pulls out a wad of 20s and puts them on the table.

“Are you gonna count those?”

“They can keep the change for letting us out the back,” Church says. “Get up and walk past me into the kitchen on three, I’ll be behind you.”

Wash doesn’t even need to question it.

When they run up to Church’s car, they see someone exit the front of the restaurant, looking around.

They don’t need to know if it’s about them or not.

“Step on it,” Wash says, and Church agrees.

-

“You’ve been getting out more,” Tucker says, when Church stumbles in through the door past midnight. “How’s _Wa-aash?_ ”

Church shoots Tucker a glare- a glare that’s detracted from by the fact that Church is flushed and clearly tipsy.

“Wash is _fine_ ,” Church says. He flops down on the couch next to Tucker. Tucker thinks he sees a smile playing on Church’s mouth.

Tucker feels satisfied that for the first time since news of the failed study broke, Church seems to enjoy his life.

“Remember, buddy,” Tucker says gently, “You have your court dates in a week.”

“Uh-huh.”

Tucker gently runs one hand through Church’s hair.

“I’ll be there. Don’t worry.”

“I know,” Church says softly. “I don’t.”

Tucker realizes that Church has dozed off in his lap and sighs.

He might as well stay there until the morning.


	6. You've gotta set me free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In the evening, the devil will wander his way,_   
>  _Demons will lose their faith,_   
>  _For I will be awake over my precious treasure,_   
>  _And kiss one last good night._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warned ya.

Church wakes up to his phone buzzing. 

**[From: Wash: Hey, York and I are gonna be stopping by, he says he has something from Carolina to give you?]**

**[From: Wash: Be there in 10.]** **  
**

**[To: Wash: just come up when u get here i’m awake]**

Church groans and runs a hand through his hair, listening to Tucker move about through the kitchen. 

“Church, I’m going out.” 

“Okay,” Church groans. “Have fun.” 

“Bye!” 

“Bye.”

Church flops back on the couch and doesn’t move until he hears a knock at the door. 

“Coming.”

He rolls off the couch and stumbles to the door, opening it to Wash (looking nervous and pink in a way Church has to admit is cute) and York (holding a folder that has Carolina’s neat handwriting on it and looking like the cat that got the canary.) 

“Hey kid,” York greets cheerily. 

“Ugh,” Church mutters, grabbing the folder. “I know you’re basically my in-law but that doesn’t mean you have the right to call me kid.”

“In-law?” Wash asks. York shrugs. 

“Yeah. Carolina’s his cousin.” 

Wash blinks. “Oh. Well...you do look similar, now that I think of it.” 

Church shrugs, putting the folder to the side. 

“How’re you feeling about having to testify in a few days?” York asks, and Church flushes.

“I…”

“You didn’t tell me it’s in a few days for you,” Wash says, surprised. 

That’s because Church had avoided the topic.

“Kid’s the star witness,” York jokes. “Patient Zero.” 

Church backs up slightly. “Don’t call it that, York.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

York looks surprised. “You didn’t know, Wash?” 

Church feels nauseous. “I didn’t wanna say.”

He listens mutely as York summarizes the situation to Wash, who looks stunned.

“You lied to me.” 

“By omission,” Church mutters. “I don’t like talking about--” 

“You didn’t tell me that it’s your memories that started this.” Wash looks outright betrayed. Church swallows. 

“You ruined everything.” It’s not delivered with anger, rather a mix of bewilderment and numb shock.

“You think I don’t-” 

“I don’t wanna hear your excuses,” Wash growls. York takes a step back. 

“Wash, slow down, let him explain what happened-”

“All you had to do was sit still for some scans and exams,” Wash says bitterly, “And then you messed up all of us. Bet your uncle’s so damn proud. What the hell, Church, why didn’t you say anything?” 

“I…” Church pauses. “Wash…” 

Wash storms off, looking conflicted above all else. York sighs. 

“I’m really sorry, kid, I thought he knew about all that.”

Church slams the door in York’s face before stumbling back to the couch and lying motionless until Tucker returns to ask why Church is so upset.

-

_ Leonard. Your parents, there was an accident. _

(Wash presses his hands over his ears, blocking out the waves of white noise and memory that hit his brain and break like the ocean)

_ Caroline. Leo. I expect better from you. You’re both exceptional children.  _

(There’s no mistaking the distinct southern drawl of the director. It makes Wash’s skin crawl to remember- is that Wash’s skin, the director being the person who cursed him with these flashes of memory that aren’t his, or  _ Leonard’s _ memory, the director being the person who haunted his childhood?)

_ You do so well in school. And yet you aren’t doing your best, Caroline.  _

_ You’re so full of shit, she’s practically perfect, what more do you want, for her to cure cancer?  _

_ Don’t answer that!  _

_ Leo. Stay out of this. _

_ I don’t want to! She’s my cousin!  _

(The sound of the slap echoes in Wash’s mind and he whimpers- he whimpers, Leonard does, they both do, Wash has almost entirely separated the visions he had in the machine and his own feelings and memories. He’s sure it’s both of them.) 

_ What the hell? _

(Wash knows deep down Church regrets not saying anything sooner but he is still for the moment mad nothing was said)

_ Go to your room. _

(Mad that the memories he’s cursed with are ones where he now knows the owner)

(It’s so unfair)

_ Caro- _

_ Go, Leo. _

(So unfair so unfair so unfair…)

-

“Wash?” 

York pauses and watches Wash curl up tighter in the passenger seat of their car. 

“Look, I’m sorry, I thought you would know.” 

Wash is silent. 

“I don’t wanna tell you you’re  _ wrong _ , but...listen, you know how long I’ve been seeing Carolina.” 

Wash nods, slowly. 

“I’ve known Church for a long time. Give him a chance to explain. There’s a reason he’s on our side.” 

“Why don’t you care?” Wash asks hoarsely. “This entire fucking experiment took your eye, destroyed Carolina, put North in a fucking coma, and I…”

“I do care,” York points out. “I just don’t blame  _ Church. _ There’s a difference.” 

“He caused it,” Wash says flatly. “Can you just drive me home.” 

“Yeah. But think about it, ok? Carolina and I don’t blame him. We blame the director.” 

“Drive me  _ home _ , York.”


	7. The dream is alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ... _I can run on the hills every night._

The next three days pass slow for Wash, but with the same result every afternoon. 

**[5 missed calls from Church]**

**[3 unread voicemails]**

**[Delete?]**

**[2 missed calls from Church]**

**[2 unread voicemails]**

**[Delete?]**

**[6 missed calls from Church]**

**[1 unread voicemail]**

**[Delete?]**

**[Incoming call from Tucker…]**

Wash sighs and assumes he can’t ignore that, and answers his phone. “Washington.”

“Dude, Wash, what the fuck?” Tucker exclaims. Wash holds his phone away slightly as the audio levels peak. 

“What do you mean.” 

“Don’t play dumb, I know you blew up at Church!” 

“Why wouldn’t I,” Wash says flatly. “It  _ is _ his fault. The director used his files to-” 

“Oh shut  _ up _ ,” Tucker groans. “He’s been telling me that while he’s fucking drunk every other night. Do you think he doesn’t beat himself up daily? For fuck’s sake, dude, this bullshit made him lose his last girlfriend, and fucked up his cousin and her boyfriend.”

“Last girlfriend?” 

“You know Tex?” 

Wash does- she’s currently overseas, turned in her records and testimony and disappeared. “Yeah.” 

“Look,” Tucker says with a sigh. “Church was a mess before he met you. He lost his job because of this, he was staying home all day, I was always keeping an eye on him cause the press would chase him around and he was acting...real fuckin’ worrying. He didn’t leave the house willingly for anyone but me until you asked him out. I haven’t seen him in public without those stupid sunglasses unless you’re there. He  _ hates _ himself for what happened. He’s fucked up too. So can you please just let him tell you the truth?” 

Something about the way Tucker says it gives Wash pause. It’s a well-known fact, to anyone who’s even acquainted with the two, that Tucker and Church are near inseparable. And Tucker really does sound honest about Church’s state. 

“I know you’ve been ignoring his calls,  _ Washington _ , for the love of god give him a chance.”

Wash sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine.” 

“Hey Church! C’mere!” 

“Whassat?” 

Church sounds a mess, Wash can practically imagine it. Church has probably been drinking, given what Tucker said, and is probably wearing a ratty shirt and some sweatpants. He probably looks tired.

Wash hears Church yawn. “What do you want.” 

“Phone for you.”

“Thanks.” 

Church takes the phone.

“H’llo?” 

“Church, it’s Wash.” 

(Wash can picture the stunned look Church would have. His eyes wide, face blank. Wash hears a rustle that he’s sure is Church running a hand through his hair.)

“Oh.”

“I...talked to Tucker,” Wash says tactfully.

“Did you.”

“I want to know what happened.”

Wash lays down on his couch, fidgeting. “Why are you in the suit.”

Wash hears Church fidget.

“I didn’t consent to experimentation. As they say.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Church says, voice tinged with bitterness. “I used to work in the labs. IT. I didn’t know he was running the place, I was a recent hire, new job out of college, I had a stable relationship and was supporting my best friend and his kid...things were looking up. They asked me to do a mandatory medical exam. Including some brain scans. They had everyone do it, so I thought it was normal.” 

He sighs. “Turns out, they trashed everyone else’s results but mine and adapted them into whatever intensive things they ran on you and everyone else.” 

Wash hears Church shift, clearly uncomfortable. 

“So yeah, you’re right, I ruined everything. But I didn’t want this. At all. You have a right to start ignoring my calls again, but you should know first.” 

“When’s your court date?”

“What?” 

“When?” 

“Friday at 2,” Church says. “Why?”

Wash hangs up. 

\--

“Church, you look like shit,” Tucker murmurs, brushing dirt off Church’s suit. 

“I feel like shit.” 

“Just tell the truth,” Tucker says soothingly. “I’ll be there the whole time, Carolina will be too, we’ll both come up there if you need it.”

“I’ll be fine,” Church says petulantly, before mumbling something that sounds like  _ but thank you. _

Tucker understands. He surreptitiously slides one hand to Church’s, and squeezes. 

Church takes a deep breath. 

“Ready?” Tucker asks.

“Ready,” Church replies. 

“Let’s do this then.” 

Church thinks he blacks out for the minutes it takes to agree he’s not going to lie under oath and sit down. 

“Mr. Church--” 

“Just Church,” he replies reflexively. 

“Church, then. You contributed the brain scans that provided the data for the completion of the alpha system.” 

Church swallows nervously. “Yes.” 

“As we all know from previous testimony, the alpha system is an intense form of virtual reality that can stimulate the brain to produce intense visions and even cause the user to feel specific emotions generated by the program.” 

Church knows that by now. 

“These interactions with the brain are what caused the damages claimed by the plaintiffs. You know that now, correct?” 

“I do.” 

“Were you aware of this before your cousin, miss Caroline Church, approached you two months ago?”

“No.” 

“So when were your medical records and brain scans obtained?” 

“From a health and safety check at my job.”

“Were you told that your information would be shared?” 

“No.” 

“Were you told that it would be used in any way?” 

“Definitely not!”

The next few hours of wringing details of the experience and his family history out go slow, until they get to the cross-examination. Church hates the feeling of the cameras from local news watching him, the feeling he’s avoided since the news came to him that he was now infamous.

“You consented to the scan of your brain used to create the alpha system, did you not?”

Church stiffens. Everyone holds their breath. For a second, Church wonders what the consequences are if he leans over the table and clocks one of his uncle’s smug defense lawyers in the jaw. He and Carolina have to scrape together every penny they can from people who are already hurting just to pursue retribution, while the director can stroll over to Price and build a team of paralegals. 

He feels like yelling, really, or actually genuinely punching the guy in the face, that he didn’t properly say yes to this, that if he had known things would end here he would have said no. He feels the director himself’s icy gaze from the defense side of the room. That alone is enough to make him want to either scream or fade out of existence.

Church looks up as the door to the courtroom opens.  _ Oh. _

It’s Wash. He leans on the back wall, and Church is stunned out of being angry and into being wordless. Wash looks at him- directly, looks at him- and gives him a small smile. Church sees Carolina and Tucker in the front, both looking concerned but supportive, and he clenches one fist under the table with determination. 

“I wasn’t forced to take the scan, no. But I never agreed to share the results.”

Wash quietly gives Church a thumbs-up. Church could almost grin, but instead, he smiles with ferocity. The Director always hated his mouthiness, well, Church can damn well show him how  _ mouthy  _ he can get. 

It’s time to fight back.


	8. I can run on the hills every night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Dancing on the path and singing now you got away._   
>  _You can reach the goals that you have set from now on, every day._   
>  _There is no way you would go back now, oh no, those days are past._   
>  _Life is waiting for the one who loves to live, and it's not a secret..._

Tucker stops fussing over Church afterwards for five minutes so he can talk to Wash.

“I’m sorry,” Wash says, as soon as Church approaches. 

“You...are?” 

“I wasn’t thinking that this had probably hurt you as much as all of us. I didn’t think that you must feel awful, because you never asked for any of this. And I’m sorry I thought for a minute that you had known about anything, because you wouldn’t be on our side if you did, and that I didn’t listen to you when you tried to explain your involvement.” 

Church flushes slightly, giving Wash a crooked smile.  “I appreciate it.”

“You did...really well, keeping it together.” 

“Wow, now you’re really complimenting me, d’you have a fever or something, Washington?”

“I’m going easy on you today,” Wash says softly. “Testifying sucks. You deserve it.” 

“Normally I’d say I don’t want your pity, but I almost assaulted his lawyer, so, maybe this once.” 

“One more thing,” Wash says, stepping closer to Church. Church swallows. 

“Yeah?” 

“Do you want me to buy you dinner?” Wash asks softly, and Church nods rapidly. 

“Yeah. That sounds nice.” 

“Actually…” Wash pauses, thinking. “One more one more thing.”

“What’s that?” 

Wash puts one hand under Church’s chin- waits for him to pull back- he doesn’t- and then Wash gives him a soft kiss. 

Church stiffens slightly, but doesn’t back away, doesn’t move. 

“Church, if what I saw was based on you, then I know you well by now, and I know you’re a good person deep down,” Wash murmurs softly, keeping his voice low.

“Don’t go telling everyone,” Church replies. “Ruins my credibility.”

“Don’t worry,” Wash says, amused. “I can keep your secrets.”

Church snorts. “If you say so.”

\--

_ 5 days later _

Wash sits up to hear a knock at his apartment door late in the evening. 

It’s Church, holding an opened bottle of vodka. 

“Hey.” 

Wash lets Church stumble inside and lie down on his couch. 

“Did something happen?” 

“Nope,” Church says, tone almost cheerful. Wash sits next to him. “You got some of my memories, right? From the machine?” 

“A few.” 

“Huh.” Church takes a drink of his vodka. “You ever wanna ask me about them?” 

“They’re pretty straightforwards, Church.”

“Yeah, but still. If--  _ us _ is gonna be a thing, you have a right to know.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Church stretches his legs onto Wash. 

“You know my parents are dead?” 

“Mhm.” 

“He used that?” Church looks betrayed. “Shit.” 

“I saw it. I’m not sure if I was meant to.”

“S not your fault,” Church mumbles, gesturing.

“Happened when I was...fourteen? Fifteen? They worked in th’ government…” 

Wash listens. 

-

The next day, when Wash wakes up, Church is still asleep in his bed. Wash gets up, takes a shower, and eats a banana before leaving Church a note. 

_ Have some errands to run. You can leave if you want, lock the door behind yourself. Take food if you need, too. Text me when you get home if you leave. Be safe. _

Wash pauses, before signing it with a small heart and  _ -W _ , and leaves the note on the bedside table nearest Church. 

He gets in his car, takes a breath, and turns the keys in the ignition to make the car start the drive to the hospital.

Upon pulling up, he checks his phone. 

**[Text from: Church: i’m eating your food, 1, 2, i’m not going back to tucker’s for a bit so if you’re gonna be back in a few hours i’ll b here]**

**[Text to: Church: I’ll probably back in 3 hours, tops.]**

Wash signs in at the front desk and makes his way to room 1889. He knocks on the door. 

“South?” 

“What.” 

Wash opens the door to see South sitting by the bed, her feet up, eating ramen that’s clearly from one of the hospital vending machines. 

“Hey, Wash.” She sighs, setting the ramen down. “Look, I’m sorry for blowing up at you the last time you visited.” 

Wash blinks. “You’re apologizing?” 

“Yeah. But you had better not tell anyone.” South glares, then shrugs. “Carolina, for all her faults, the first thing she did splitting up the money her and her little cousin won off the director was pay off North’s hospital bills and buy off a specialist to see if they can wake him up and fix all the nerve damage.”

Wash isn’t necessarily surprised. He’s seen both Carolina and Church torn with guilt over the sins of their family. In fact, paying for everyone’s hospital bills was probably the first thing on Carolina’s mind, if not Church’s.

“So...you were right. It gets better. And it was kind of shitty of me to say it should have been you when it’s nobody’s fuckin’ fault. And that’s all you’re getting.” 

Wash shrugs. “That’s fine by me.”

He sits on the other side of the hospital bed. 

“So it’s looking up?” 

South takes a bite of her ramen, and nods. 

“They’re trying surgery on Monday. I’ll let you know what happens.” 

“You know you can always call York and I.”

“Yeah. You’ll be the first to know.” 

“...thanks.” 

“Don’t thank  _ me, _ ” South says. “He’d want it that way.” 

Wash silently has to agree. 


	9. Go around and see another side of the trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _No more crying in her lantern's light_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Accidentally cranked that yorkalina out of the background, here.
> 
> Woops.

Church is sitting at Claret with his hood up and sunglasses still on when he notices someone taking a seat across from him. 

He doesn’t flinch- he knows this person. 

“Hey Carolina.” 

Church lowers his sunglasses. 

“You seem happy.” 

Carolina Church is still wearing a suit, her dyed red hair pulled back in a ponytail. Church notices she’s holding her hands under the table, for the moment, but he hears her set down a briefcase.  

“Well, good news and more good news.” As if Church couldn’t tell that’s what Carolina’s here for- she’s wearing a sly grin as she states it.

“Mhm?” 

“One, we gutted the old man. Eviscerated. Destroyed.”

“Obliterated?” 

“Exactly.” Carolina steals a chunk of Church’s blueberry bread. “Sure, it was his expensive lawyer Price against Wash’s friend who recently passed the bar-” 

“Wait, Connie recently passed the bar? How recently?” 

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, Church, she’s tenacious as hell and we won. I’m selling the old house, buying a new one soon.” 

“So that’s the good news.” 

“The more good news…” Carolina practically grins, which Church hasn’t seen from her in...ages. 

“You gonna spill it, or keep stealing my lunch?” 

Carolina frowns. 

“Eat a better lunch, Church.” 

“Just tell me.”

Carolina blushes-- actually blushes, which makes Church’s sunglasses practically fall off his face. 

“Oh, woah, this must be  _ really  _ good news, if you’re acting like a thirteen year old with a crush.”

“York and I had a talk last night, and...considering that we won the case and I’m going to be finishing school in a month or so…” 

“Oh, my god.” 

Carolina offers Church her left hand, which, sure enough, has a gold ring on it.

“He paid for regular gold? Cheap. White gold is better.” 

“Is that what you would have got Tex?” Carolina asks airily, causing Church to flush himself. 

“Hey, not anymore. That’s what I’m  _ going _ to get Wash. That is...if we get that far.”

Carolina looks amused. 

“Oh, and you get a cut of the money. I’m gonna be paying everyone’s hospital bills, and then we split the money and assets and stuff. Anything you want?”

Church thinks for a moment. 

“Nah. Don’t need a house or anything right now. Might buy Tucker or Wash something nice, though.”

“Wash is getting reimbursed for about a year and a half of medication and therapy, so you can’t do that,” Carolina says dryly. 

Church glares. 

“Get the fuck outta here, cous.” 

“I have a meeting with CT in a bit anyway. Bye Leo.” 

Carolina pulls Church’s hood down to ruffle his hair on the way out, and Church makes an irritated noise. His phone buzzes. 

**[From: C’s idiot: lina said she was gonna try and catch up with you, did she?]**

**[To: C’s idiot: she just left]**

**[To: C’s idiot: congrats btw. if you ruin caro’s life ill make losing all function in ur eye look like a fuckin cakewalk]**

**[From: C’s idiot: you have nothing to worry about]**

**[To: C’s idiot: id better not.]**

**[From: C’s idiot: we dont have a date set yet but i have a question for you]**

**[To: C’s idiot: what’s up]**

**[From: C’s idiot: i know you both never got along w your family- think everyone knows that by now actually]**

**[To: C’s idiot: yeah and]**

**[From: C’s idiot: yeah but she wants to do a more traditional ceremony, you know, and i know that your late parents were more religious than  the /director/]**

**[To: C’s idiot: oh. wow. Kinda surprisng?]**

**[From: C’s idiot: we negotiated some of the stuff to keep vs not already but i know she wants to do the...part where they break the plate?]**

**[To: C’s idiot: oh, yeah. Know the bit.]**

**[From: C’s idiot: yeah, lina’s mom shld do it but there’s an obvious problem w that]**

**[To: C’s idiot: so youre asking me?]**

**[From: C’s idiot: well yeah]**

**[From: C’s idiot: you and caro are the only family each other have]**

**[From: C’s idiot: shouldnt be anyone else]**

Church pauses a moment, surprised by the request, and overall surprised that Carolina would at all  _ want _ a wedding that was even tangentially referential to their family. Then he realizes he can just be nosy and text her.

**[To: Caro: surprised youre planning on a jewish wedding cuz]**

**[From: Caro: nothing’s set in stone yet, but i’d like one.]**

**[To: Caro: why?]**

**[From: Caro: it’s our family’s way, Church. We’re all that’s left, we might as well build a new and better one.]**

Once he thinks about it, it makes sense. Carolina  _ would _ feel a sense of duty to keep the traditions of their family alive, even though it might tie into touchy subjects. 

**[To: C’s idiot: sure.]**

That should be all about that, for now. 

Actually, Church realizes as he started to put his phone away, one more thing. He moves to pull his phone back out, but before he can, Wash slides into the seat across from him. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Wash says, breathless (he probably ran from wherever he parked). He leans across the table and gives Church a quick kiss. 

“I was about to text you,” Church says. He pushes the half eaten blueberry bread across the table. “Carolina was just here, she had some.” 

“Oh. Really?” 

Church nods. “She told me about the case update.”

“Oh, there was an update?” 

“Mhm.” Wash must stay all the way out of the news, because now Church gets to break it to him. Church smirks. “We won.”

Wash’s jaw drops, and in an uncharacteristic display of emotion, he pulls Church to standing and gives him a harder, more emotional kiss. 

Church sits back down, blushing furiously. From a few tables over, where Grif is cleaning, he yells “Get a room!” 

Church ignores him. 

“Church, that’s amazing,” Wash says sincerely. “That’s so good, I’m so- happy for you-- for  _ us _ -” 

Church grabs Wash’s hand under the table, running his thumb over Wash’s knuckles. 

“Oh, she had more good news too.” 

“Yeah?” 

Church gives Wash an amused look. 

“How do you feel about going on a date to a family wedding with someone you’re dating.”


	10. Freedom has a meaning for me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Howl, and dream._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: did i make this chapter TOO gay?  
> me: naaaaaahhhh.

_ Four months after _

Wash watches as Church flops down into a chair next to him.

“God, that was tiring.” 

“You did a good job,” Wash reassures. Church runs a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Besides, you said yourself she wasn’t having an extremely traditional wedding, it’s not awful if you messed up.” 

“I can’t believe-” Church hiccups. “Your friend’s gonna be sleeping with my cousin tonight.” 

“You drank, didn’t you.” 

“Not too much.” 

Church leans on Wash tiredly.  “At least she’s happy.” 

Wash nods agreement to that. 

Wash looks up as a slow song comes on. 

“Are you too tired to dance?” 

Church sighs. 

“I wouldn’t do this for anyone but you.” 

“I’ll take it slow,” Wash promises, pulling Church to his feet. 

Wash takes the lead, since apparently Church never learned to slow dance, which Wash thinks is a shame. He secretly thinks Church looks a little cute like this- just a little- tired, nearing the end of the night, leaning on Wash as Wash moves in vague rhythm with the music.

Church yawns, putting his head on Wash’s chest. Wash hums to the song. 

_ I will love you til I die  _

_ And I will love you all the time  _

_ So please put your sweet hand in mine  _

_ And float in space  _

_ And drift in time _

Wash puts one arm around Church’s waist to spin him. Church makes a surprised noise, but goes with the motion. 

_ All I want in life’s a little bit of love to take the pain away _ … 

Wash almost loses track of time like this, but when the song ends, he squeezes Church’s hand gently. Church is definitely falling asleep like this, with Wash’s presence and the gentle swaying Wash is primarily in charge of.

“Time to take you back home.” 

“Yeah,” Church says. “Home’s good.” 

Home now is a bigger apartment with a view in Church’s name. Wash was honestly just surprised Church moved out of Tucker’s place. Wash has to remove Church’s tie himself before Church collapses into their bed in his suit. Wash sighs affectionately. 

“Wanna take that off?”

“You do it.”

Wash obliges. “Goodnight, Church.” 

Church mumbles something that’s probably a goodnight to Wash too, and is out like a light. 

Wash spends some time getting ready for bed, at least- he moves slowly through the motions, occasionally stopping to look through the door of their personal bathroom at Church, who is sleeping in only his boxers. The windows in their apartment are massive, now, and the moon and city lights are turning Church’s skin silvery. His hair is still a mess- Wash had helped him comb it in the morning so it would look nice for the ceremony, but it got messed up soon enough anyway. Church’s face twitches with what looks like irritation at something he’s probably dreaming about. 

Wash smiles tiredly and crawls into their bed, pulling the blankets over them both. 

He wraps his arms around Church, rests his head in Church’s neck, and closes his eyes.

The next morning Church wakes to a note from Wash. 

_ Church-  _

_ Meant to make you a nice breakfast for being such a good cousin to C. + B.F. to me last night. And figured you’d be hungover.  _

_ Unfortunately, got an urgent text from the hospital. Nonemergency. If all goes well I’ll be back this afternoon.  _

_ There’s a (kosher) Denver omelette in the fridge. Sorry it’s not hot + fresh.  _

_ Left you an alka-seltzer + water too, and coffee. I’ll text you updates.  _

_ Love,  _

_ Wash. _

Church notes that Wash (the dork) has drawn a heart next to his signature. 

Wash is a good cook- even though it’s not warm, the omelette is good, and Church appreciates it.

He drinks the water and seltzer tablet, then the coffee, and turns on the TV after making sure he hasn’t missed an update text from Wash.

It’s past noon when Wash gets home, looking excited. 

“Church, good news-” 

“Yeah?” 

“The last person to still be undergoing medical treatment from the suit was my friend North, yeah?” 

“Uhhuh. You and York’s friend. Did something happen?” 

“They woke him up. They thought it might not happen, but...I’ve been there all morning helping his sister take care of paperwork. She’s taking him to her place right now.”

Church lets out a breath. “So no deaths.” 

“No deaths,” Wash says, approaching Church and pulling him off the couch and into a hug. “You know, I’m proud of you.” 

“Please,” Church mutters, and Wash grins. 

“I am.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

Wash can tell he doesn’t really mean it, though. 

After all, they know each other better than anyone else.

_ fin. _

**Author's Note:**

> This is already complete in my document, so it'll update steadily until there's none left. 
> 
> Please do leave kudos and comments, it means a lot! 
> 
> Tumblr: maggie-wittington (finally onto a canon url? in my me?)  
> Twitter: extraplutonium


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